


Sweet Dreams, Timaeus

by thymelord



Series: Defragmentation: A Standalone Collection of Oneshots [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: (but its not really snuff because Dirk's immortal), (is that a thing), Alternate Universe - Villains, Bloodplay, Consensual Snuff, Crockertier, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Gunplay, Hate Sex, Incest, Knifeplay, M/M, Mind Break, Power Bottom John Egbert, Sibling Incest, Snuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24273973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/pseuds/thymelord
Summary: Dirk gets captured by John and Jake Crocker. They decide to have a little fun with him.(In which Jake is batshit insane, and so am I, apparently)
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider, Jake English/John Egbert, John Egbert/Dirk Strider
Series: Defragmentation: A Standalone Collection of Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750708
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Sweet Dreams, Timaeus

**Author's Note:**

> a whole lot of massive bullshit upon bullshit has transpired in my personal life and i’m coping by writing a fuckload of fucked up smut. ur welcome

Most alternate realities are very similar, with only small, incidental changes that caused them to diverge from the alpha timeline.

Not this one.

This one is what Dirk can only describe as absolutely batshit insane.

He’s bound and chained in the same pose as The Signless, cuffs around his wrists connected to the ceiling by clinking gold chains. He was kneeling, ankles chained to the wall. He struggles, restraints pulled taut. Jake English – although he isn’t, not here, he’s Jake _Crocker –_ is walking in slow circles around him, a double barrelled pistol in each hand. Personally, Dirk thinks that’s overkill, but unlike some of his incarnations he isn’t suicidal, so he bites his tongue. He pushes the barrel of the gun under his chin, forcing him to meet his eye.

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Dirk Strider.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side like a raven considering its prey. “Or do you prefer the epithet… what is it you call yourself? Ace of Hearts? King of Hearts?”

“Prince,” Dirk grits out. “Prince of Heart.”

“That doesn’t make sense. That’s not even a playing card.”

“I’m not – we don’t name ourselves after playing cards. Why would you even -” He breaks off, shaking his head in disbelief.

Jake hums thoughtfully. “Why Prince? Why not King?”

“Not everyone wants to be the highest rank.”

Jake smiles, and digs the pistol in harder. “Perhaps.” He drags the gun up, tracing Dirk’s lips. “But I think I understand you more than you wish to admit, Dirky. The rest of the Derse Cabal fights against us because they think we’re tyrannical. But you do it because you don’t like to be controlled.” When Dirk remains silent, Jake smirks, his eyes glittering as he pushes the barrel of the gun past his lips.

Dirk’s eyes widen, and he tries to jerk his head backwards, only for Jake to click off the safety in response. “Now, now,” he says. “Be a good boy, Dirky.”

Dirk glares at him, but can’t quite manage to muster any heat behind it. He can leave any time he wants; why the fuck is he staying?

The gun slides into his mouth, and then out, Jake pumping it slowly. Dirk catches his eye and hollows his cheeks, sucking vigorously, lips sliding up and down obscenely. Jake’s deep viridian eyes darken, a small noise coming from the back of his throat.

“Such a cockslut,” coos Jake. “You’d suck my cock as prettily, wouldn’t you?”

Dirk makes an indecipherable noise. Jake’s finger edges towards the trigger, and Dirk stares at him in panic. “I heard you can’t die,” says Jake. “Heard Jade once lopped your head clean off and you were back gallivanting around the city the next day.” His fingertip rests against the trigger. “I’d be keen to test the theory.”

A gunshot cracks through the dungeon, and agony rips through Dirk for a second before he’s falling into darkness.

~

When Dirk awakes, he’s bound in the same position, but he’s kneeling on a kingsize bed. His throat still aches a little, but his skin is unmarred. The blood has been cleaned from him, but he’s been left in the nude. A raven-haired bespectacled boy with an overbite comes swimming into focus, and Dirk jolts with shock when he realises it isn’t Jake.

“John?” he croaks.

“Dirky!” he beams. “I was going to play with your brother, but he escaped, so Jake said I can share you!” He’s grinning widely, a manic gleam in his eyes, but Dirk can’t help but think how attractive he looks; can’t help but notice the substantial girth of the soft member hanging between his legs.

_Get a fucking grip, Strider._

John puts his glasses on the side, giving Dirk an unimpeded view of his sapphire eyes. “You’re so handsome,” he croons. “Handsome _and_ immortal. Some guys get all the luck!” His lips trail down the ridges of his trachea, nipping at the sensitive skin at the base of his throat, and Dirk whines.

“John,” he breathes. “Oh God…”

“Oh, hello,” purrs John, fingers ghosting along Dirk’s hard cock. “You think I’m handsome too, Dirky?”

“No…”

“So why are you so hard for me, darling?”

“I – _hh - ”_ Dirk strains against the cuffs, causing his arm muscles to stand out starkly, and John makes a noise of appreciation, running his hands along them.

“You’re like a Greek god,” he says. “Isn’t that one of your aliases? Timaeus?”

“Timaeus wasn’t a god,” scoffs Dirk, and gasps when John pinches his nipple.

He smiles, and a soft wind rustles John’s hair, making it adorably tousled. A few moments later, Dirk’s cuffs are unlocking, but whip-thin invisible tendrils still prevent him from moving his limbs too much. He flexes his arm experimentally, looking at John with a quirked eyebrow.

“I did like the way those chains looked on you, but this is more… flexible.” The air pushes Dirk onto his back, pinning his wrists above his head. He watches helplessly as John climbs on top of him, stomach flush against his, peppering kisses along his jawline. “Jake said he’d kill me if I took you first,” says John. “Of course, I could always do it anyway and get Janey to revive me, but that sounds like more trouble than it’s worth.” John sits on his haunches, gazing down at him. “I can ride you, though.”

Dirk’s tongue darts out to wet the bottom of his lip. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Why? You want me to fuck you?”

Dirk flushes, hands clenching. “I want to leave.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen, darling.” John holds out his hand, and a bottle of lube goes spinning into it, John catching it without even looking. This is the first time Dirk’s seen his powers at such a close range, and he has to admire John’s exquisite control. Dirk flinches slightly as the cold lube slicks over his cock, and he stares at John prepping himself as though mesmerised. His fingers slide into him to the knuckle, and he lets out a soft whine, dick bobbing against his stomach. His fingers a beautiful; dark and slender, a pianist’s hand. The idea of those hands flying delicately along ivory keys seems alien at the moment, as they curl obscenely inside him, the other hand digging cruelly into Dirk’s hips.

The pain clarifies his lust, pulls it into focus. He’s always been a sucker for a vicious little power bottom. As though hearing his thoughts, something black and slim flies into John’s hand, and a moment later he flicks a button to reveal a wickedly sharp blade. Dirk gasps as John lashes out, making a shallow cut along his collarbone at the same time he sinks down onto his cock.

“ _John,”_ groans Dirk. “John - ” He gives a trembling gasp as John seals his mouth over the cut, sucking it greedily as that perky little ass of his bounces up and down on his shaft.

“You feel good, Dirky,” moans John. “You’re so big – oh…” His voice is lilting, almost sweet, and the juxtaposition makes Dirk start.

The door opens, and Dirk looks over to see Jake in the doorway, pinning them with a thunderous stare. “Don’t look like that,” trills John. “He was hard for me. I didn’t want to let that gorgeous boner of his go to waste, did I?”

Jake wordlessly climbs onto the bed, shedding his clothes as he does, and kisses John slowly, hand carding through his hair. “You always were a fan of a good loophole,” Jake murmurs against him, and John smiles.

“Aren’t you brothers?” says Dirk breathlessly, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“Oh, don’t play coy,” says Jake. “We’ve all heard the rumours about you and _your_ brother.”

Damn. Can’t the Striders keep their hands off each other in _one_ fucking timeline?

“I’m not complaining,” whispers Dirk. “It’s hot.”

“Oh?” says John, hips speeding up. “You find us hot, huh?”

“Well, yeah, I have – I have eyes -” He catches his breath as he feels his climax build, not wanting to give the Crockers the satisfaction of hearing him moan.

John gives him a knowing smirk, hand circling his throat and pressing down. “Sing for me, my sweet prince.” He feels John’s passage convulse around him, and he lets out a short, sharp scream as he comes inside him, with John’s lovely hand crushing his windpipe. John climbs off him and Jake immediately shoves him onto his stomach, parting his cheeks and licking Dirk’s cum from his taint. John whines, his toes curling against the sheets. Jake lifts his hips and turns him over, two fingers stroking his prostate as he sucks his cock, and John grunts as he comes. Jake pulls off, pressing his lips together, and then leans over Dirk, spitting the mix of seed and saliva into his face. And Dirk hates himself for it, he absolutely hates it, but the degradation makes his cock stir back to semi-hardness.

Jake holds out a hand. “Knife.”

Terror and lust are coiled within Dirk so tightly he can no longer distinguish one from the other. He’d never really fancied himself a masochist beyond a little bit of roughness and slapping, and yet now he wants Jake to peel him apart, to slit his throat and fuck him through the wound he’d made.

Jesus fucking _Christ,_ where did that come from?

“Gorgeous,” murmurs Jake, twirling the switchblade in his hand. He touches the tip of his knife to Dirk’s chest, making careful little incisions in his skin. Dirk hisses, tears gathering in the corner of his eye. John peers over Jake’s shoulder at his handiwork, pressing a quick kiss to his neck.

“Property of Jake Crocker,” he reads. “Ooh! I love that little heart you did at the end.”

Dirk’s breaths come slow, laboriously. Overlapping waves of desire and pain surge through him. “Oh?” purrs Jake as he feels Dirk’s erection nudge him. “You like that, doll? Being claimed?”

Dirk moans incoherently, hips twitching upwards, cock rutting against Jake’s hipbone.

“How’d I get so lucky, having a pretty little slattern like you fall into my lap?”

“You kidnapped me.”

“Details, details.” Jake kisses him, chest moving against Dirk’s, causing his cuts to burn as though saltwater was being poured into them. Jake pulls back, crimson blood smeared beautifully over his golden skin, emerald eyes burning. He looks like a fallen angel, and Dirk wants to be devoured whole.

“Jake,” he gasps. “Jake…”

“Yes, doll?”

His lips part, breath trembling. “I’m yours,” he whispers. “Ruin me.”

Jake’s smile is positively feral. He grips the bottom of his thighs, pushing them back so Dirk’s feet point towards the ceiling. Jake scrabbles for the lube, making sure to only put enough on his hand to ease his way rather than to make it comfortable for Dirk. He shoves two fingers into him, and Dirk whines. “So fucking tight,” says Jake. “You’re usually a top, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

Jake pushes into him so hard Dirk slides up the bed, and he has to shove his hips down to keep him in place. Dirk gives a high, embarrassing keen, and bites his lip quickly.

“Oh, don’t do that,” says Jake. “I want to hear you, doll.”

Jake’s big – _really_ big – and at first all he can feel is burning pain. But after a few moments, he begins to get used to it, his body remembering how to take it. He screams as Jake finds his prostate, and his face contorts, feeling delirious with pleasure. “Jake,” he gasps. “Oh, yes, fuck, _Jake!”_

“Who’d have thought it,” says Jake with a sly twist of his mouth. “The great Dirk Strider, leader of the Derse Cabal, moaning under the Crocker heir like a bitch in heat. What would your chums think of you if they saw you like this?” He leans down to hiss in his ear. “They’d _hate_ you. But you don’t care, do you? You only care about taking my thick, fat load.” The knife goes to Dirk’s neck, and he gasps. “I want to kill you,” he murmurs. “But if I do, those gorgeous scars of yours will fade. Choices, choices…”

“Why don’t… you kill me… and after, you… _ah –_ can cut me again.”

“That’s a _capital_ idea, Dirky,” says Jake in delight. “Not just a pretty face, are you?” He grunts, thrusts becoming quicker and shallower, and as he fills Dirk up with his cum he plunges the dagger into Dirk’s chest. Dirk screams, the fluids of his release mixing with the blood on his chest.

~

Being killed twice in less than six hours really took a toll on a person.

Dave and Rose’s worried faces are the first thing that Dirk sees, and he makes a wordless groan.

“Dirk!” says Dave. “Are you alright?”

“I-I think so. What… how did I get here?”

“We found you at the door, unconscious. The Crockers – what did they do to you? Your chest…”

Lust curls in Dirk’s stomach, and he winces slightly. “John and Jake… they…” He swallows. “I just want to be left alone for now.”

“Well, alright,” says Dave worriedly. “But we’ll be back later, okay?”

“Yeah.”

About five minutes after they’d gone, his mobile rings. He picks it up, looks at the ID.

_Master._

“H-Hello?”

“Hello, Dirky,” says Jake. “Do you like the name I put down?”

“Not really,” mutters Dirk.

“Did they believe you?”

“Yes. But don’t think that means I’m on your side.”

“Of course,” Jake purrs down the phone. “But you still want my cock, don’t you?”

Dirk’s silent.

“See you tomorrow night, Dirky. Sweet dreams.” The line goes dead.


End file.
